


Bite My Tongue

by Gemzy



Category: Banana Bus Squad, H2O Delirious - Fandom, H2OWILDCAT - Fandom, I am Wildcat - Fandom, VanossGaming (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Banana Bus Squad - Freeform, Break Up, Developing Friendships, Don't Read This, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pre-E3, Recovery, sorry this took so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemzy/pseuds/Gemzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is no secret whatsoever that the universe hates Tyler and is out to get him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite My Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> For my lovely little dork Amber, check her out at whenthestarslie.tumblr.com (sorry this took so long)  
> Follow me lostindaydreams-gemz.tumblr.com, send me prompts

Bite My Tongue

_Because I sit here wondering if anything you said was true_  
and who it was that taught you to speak bullets  
without considering the exit wound.

 

It was so pathetic.

And he doesn't know why he was reacting this way, why he cares so much. But he can't help it; he's consumed by this suffocating feeling of. . . despair?

It is no secret whatsoever that the universe hates Tyler and is out to get him. Examples behind this include: his terrible bad luck, that he was sure led to his recording equipment being stolen from his truck, busting his shoulder almost beyond repair when he was play fighting with his brothers, and his big mouth constantly getting him into trouble.  
He was always temperamental, and said things he didn't mean in the heat of the moment, said offensive or rude comments to people without thinking. And he would quietly admit to himself, that after his long-term girlfriend Kelly confessed to wanting to go on a break and give their relationship some air, his temperamentality went a little... out of control.

He would say things he didn't mean and do things he didn't mean to do. Killing his close friends in games for a laugh and being rude to them when all they wanted to do was help him. He was sad and lonely, angry and hurting, feeling like he wasn't good enough and seeing his friends have a good time online only made him feel lonelier. Sure they played games with him and invited him into group chats, Skype, Twitter, and Gmod but he still felt lonely. So he did the only thing he knew how to and converted his hurt into arrogance, sarcastic comments and scathing remarks.

He was however lucky that his friends were understanding, thanking every deity in existence that they knew how the inside of his brain worked and knew that he wasn't angry at them, they knew that he was just hurt and knew that they shouldn't take anything he said to heart, because it wasn't until he had spent most of the day drinking whiskey and revelling in the feeling of the liquid _burn_ down his throat and explode in his stomach, burning like fire through his veins making his head spin, all he could think of was how worthless he was, how no one ever needed him as much as he needed them. His friends sharing worried glances over the Skype call, all of his defences were down, arrogance and smirk wiped clean away, replaced with sombre eyes and slurred words.

Tyler wishes he could take the words back almost as soon as he’s said them — he’d blurted them in the heat of the moment, his head spinning with alcohol, calling his friends idiots and getting frustrated over the simplest of things within the game they were playing, he didn't mean them and he was well and truly prepared for the consequences of his big mouth...only to be surprised when the loudest member of their rag-tag group of friends, merely laughed his maniacal laugh and blew up an explosive barrel that was next to their in-game characters, causing their corpses to launch halfway across the map and everyone to break into hysterical giggles like little 13 year old girls. Tyler had never been so grateful to the little masked clown before, the tension that was hovering over everyone's heads for days had somewhat been lifted and Tyler actually felt like he was having fun during the rest of the game, getting lost in the laughter of his closest friends and suddenly, he didn’t feel so left out anymore.

* * *

As the days blurred by, the cans of beer that once decorated his table and living room floor slowly disappear, support coming through his crappy headset in the form of a Canadian and British accent, his two best friends offering him comfort and advice or sometimes merely acting as a distraction from his thoughts, it was not easy, especially on the nights when the clock ticked to 2am and he found himself feeling alone again. His bed cold and house eerily quiet, save for the sounds of Kino whimpering in his sleep, dreaming of things he could only imagine.

He remembers looking at his pup and huffing then flipping his pillow over to the cold side when his computer announced that he's getting a Skype call . He can recall debating on answering the call before the caller hung up, only to call again, the soft bubbling noise aggravating his sleepy mood. Dragging himself up and out of his bed and throwing himself rather dramatically into his computer chair, he slipped on his headphones, mumbling at the caller to _'hold their horses'_ before answering the call and flinching at the high-pitched happy, giggle that came through them.

“ _S'up Wildcat?!”_ The voice of Jonathan asked laughing as him and his _other_ partner in crime Luke, were probably up to god knows what at this time in the morning. He smiled in spite of his sleepy mood, happy that he had some distraction.

And distraction is something Jonathan is very, very good at. He remembers vaguely thinking once when he was in another one of his drunken stupors while listening to Evan, Jonathan and the others play a game of Gmod that he decided that Jonathan was liken the alcohol he consumed: he had a way of making you forget about your problems for a few hours before they hit you hard again and sink you deeper and deeper into that hole of self-misery, his laugh was infectious encouraging everyone else to laugh and join in on the fun happening around him and Tyler quickly found himself become addicted to the feeling and becoming eager to hang out with him. Skype calls became a regular occurrence between them as the days turned into weeks then eventually months had passed, usually when Tyler couldn't sleep and needed someone to talk to and finding out accidentally that Jonathan was a bit of a night owl as well.

Jonathan couldn't help pity the younger man, he himself understood how it felt to be heartbroken, to feel like your heart had been torn out of your chest, the numbness and the feeling of not being good enough. So he did what he does best, he plays the clown role, the funny guy. He lets Tyler relieve some steam by blowing shit up, usually with him in it. He doesn’t mind his character constantly dying, because his ridiculous deaths and corpse launches earn him a snort of amusement from Tyler, it’s nowhere near the endearing wheezy laugh he’s used to but it’s a start. And before either of them knows it, it becomes a ritual of sort for them to log on every morning at 10am on the dot and play a few rounds of nonsense games, sometimes with the others if they’re awake, both of them eating breakfast at the same time.  
Jonathan crunching on his Lucky Charms as his prop hides in the shadows of a bookcase and Tyler slurping orange juice spectating and snorting as the other’s continuously run by him.

Their friendship was easy as breathing, comfortable and secure with the knowledge they had gained about each other over late night conversations. Idiotic conversations that went over a range of topics from favourite colours to wondering if dogs actually dreamt when they closed their eyes to deeper more meaningful things that Tyler had never told anyone but found himself telling the older man who was still somewhat faceless and unmasked, and if he thought about it, maybe Jonathan being unmasked and a mystery was the main reason he told him his deeply hidden secrets. The conversations they had in the darkness of his bedroom was probably the easiest thing in Tyler's entire life. They would sometimes stay up till the sun peaked across the horizon talking excitedly about the group trip they were all making to E3, something that Jonathan confessed to Tyler that he was anxious about, everyone was finally going to see his face. He admitted to being insecure, about being funny looking and making Tyler and the others promise that they would still be friends with him when they all met up. Tyler remembered laughing brightly in the early hours of the morning, the warmth and contentedness flowing though him.

But once again, the universe was out to get him and he always fucks up the best things in his life. It all started with a text from a close school friend that he had lost touch with when they had graduated, the friend had spotted Kelly with another guy at a local bar, it was all a downward spiral from there. He had never really lost all hope of them getting back together, even after she had her mail forwarded to her new address months ago, he still _hoped._ She was his entire world, his entire story and he felt like he was nothing but a fucking sentence, overlooked and unappreciated.

The shame that shoots through him when he thinks back on the actions he did is unimaginable, the whiskey and beer he consumed swirling through his head, he's faintly surprised that he didn't get alcohol poisoning from his idiotic actions. But with his head buzzing he didn't care for such thoughts, and called the only woman he's ever loved to confirm the truth, silently begging for it to be bogus. Kelly still loved him, didn't she? The ringing of the phone going straight to answer machine and tears slipping down his cheeks, Kino padding over to his distressed owner and laying his head on his lap, comforting him the only way the pup knew how.

The months of sobriety were wasted in merely a few hours along with a friendship he desperately wanted to protect and keep forever. But he didn't know how to fix it, he didn't know how to reverse time and swallow the bitter words he said, he simply doesn't know how to stop ruining the best things in his life.

After hours drowning himself in his misery the scheduled Skype call with the others bubbles throughout his bedroom enticing him to answer it, when he does his friends greet him happily, asking him how he is and what he would like to play. He silent for far too long and Jonathan is the first to notice his rare silence, when he's usually so up-beat to play, especially in the past few weeks when recording was his sanctuary, his little escape from the real world and from the constant texts and worried phone calls his family send him. Evan and Craig also notice his lack of chatter, and he remembers them tentatively asking him if he's okay. The chatter in the call dies down to silence and Jonathan is the first to break the silence by trying to lighten the mood. And for the first time, it doesn't work, nothing Jonathan says or does helps lift him from the hole of self-misery he's dug. At that moment it felt like his world was shattering around him, it was terrible and it was painful and it makes him question anything that has ever been. He was such an idiot. He was such a _fucking_ idiot. His friends cared about him, he wished he realized that earlier instead of lashing out at them.

"Tyler, have you been drinking?" He remembers Jonathan asking softly, not wanting to believe that Tyler would slip back into his destructive habit. This wasn't like him. He was getting better. He made a promise to himself, Evan and Craig that if he ever felt the need to reach for alcohol then he would immediately talk to them. His health was important to them. And Jonathan didn't want to see yet another loved one waste away. To see them cry when their booze was taken away, to see them grovel at your feet for _just. one. more!_  
He didn't want to see the young man who he'd become so close to have pale skin and sunken eyes. To waste their life, hopes and dreams away with a swirl of cheap whiskey.

_"So?”, Tyler asked gruffly. "Why do you give a shit?"_

Over the Skype call he could see Evan and Nogla flinch at his tone, Marcel shifting uncomfortably and he guessed from the silence coming from Jonathan meant that he was disappointed.

"Tyler" Evan began. "What happened?"

He remained silent. He still wasn't sure if he could talk about it. The hurt was still too fresh and lingered within him. How could he tell his closest friends that he felt like his world was ending, that all the plans he had for the future he pictured with Kelly was tumbling down and turning to ash at his feet.  
"C'mon Tyler," Craig begged, tears beginning to form in his eyes at his best friends emotionless face and harsh words. "Talk to us.”  
  
He couldn't. . . not yet.

“There isn't anything to talk about, so let's set this shit up and get on with it.” He remembers huffing out, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from him, he doesn't want to talk, because he's sure that if he opens his mouth the stupid amount of alcohol he had consumed would make everything will tumble out and he'll break down in front of the people he considers family, it's a side of him he doesn't want them to see, _he's not ready yet.  
_ Everyone's silent for a few moments, before there's a sudden slam of a fist against a table coming from Jonathan's mic and it makes everyone jump. Tyler remembers the rage in Jonathan's voice, the hurt and the defiance belying how much he cared.

“I can't fucking believe you sometimes,” Jonathan shouted through his mic, hurt and outrage deeply colouring his voice.

“Wha—

“After all the time we've been here for you and how long we've known each other, can't we care about you?”

“I don't know why you would,” he said truthfully, stunning everyone once again into silence.  
He can see the tears welling in his friends eyes, Brock and Luis eyes are slightly red – rimmed.

Jonathan's voice is gruffer than _he_ wants it to be, but his _anger_ is _building_ up inside him.

“I’m scared for you,” he admits, his voice wavering and no longer holding the childlike tone to it, “We all are”, he sees everyone nod their heads in confirmation, agreeing with the most hyperactive person of their group.  
Jonathan knows he’s revealing a lot with his words, but he’s tired, he tired of holding it in, tired of wondering if he or Evan and Craig are getting through to him, but more than that he's terrified that Tyler was going to die, that he'll drink himself to death and he’ll never be able to set these feelings inside him free. “You’re not sleeping, you’re barely eating, you’re wasting away, slipping away from us and we're scared, _I'm scared_ because I’ve lost so many people I care about already and I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Don’t” Tyler closes his eyes, counting to ten in his head trying not to think about the words Jonathan just said, he's shaking by the time he reopens his eyes and his friends take in his expression, his eyes, big and storm cloud grey are wide and wild, like a cornered animal ready to take flight.

“Why the fuck not?” Jonathan counters back at him, “ Look, I know you're scared and angry and probably really needing someone right now, even though you won't admit it, but _we're here for you._ _We always have and always will be.”_

“Yeah we're her— “ Evan begins.

“I said, don’t,” Tyler remembers growling out

“What's your fucking problem?” he heard Jonathan scream into his mic, his voice catching wetly around the words.

“You're my fucking problem,” Tyler shouted, breathing heavily. “Always acting like nothing bothers you at least I say what's on my fucking mind instead of covering everything up and pretending I'm fucking okay and that everything is fine and dandy. Stop being so fucking positive all the god-damn time.”

“At least when I'm depressed I don't destroy myself with all the drinking you've been doing, I try and get help and it's something you fucking need, something we're trying to do, _we want to help._ ”

Tyler froze at the words coming through his headset, the sincerity in Jonathan's tone making his throat close over with an emotion he wasn't ready to identify, and instead he did the only thing he knew how, he went on the defence. “I don't need you're fucking help.”  
The silence that followed was deafening. The others who were once trying to calm Jonathan and Tyler down in the background were silent and holding their breaths.

“Wait — I didn't —

“No” Jonathan cut him off, “Fuck you. Fuck you right to hell.” Then he was gone, logging off of Skype and quitting out of the game that was on standby in the background.  
  
A pained noise escaped Tyler's throat as his head hit his desk table, desperately wanting to take back the pathetic words that he had uttered moments ago. A whistle echoed through his headset as Marcel sat back in his seat, watching through his webcam at the defeated man before him, “I don't think I've ever heard Delirious get angry before. Kudos on that by the way.”  
“Marcel,” he heard Craig hiss at him, appalled at their rager's words.  
Marcel merely shrugged his shoulders before scolding the slumped over man, “You know Delirious has been worried the most about you, I mean don't get me wrong, we all care, but Delirious no . . . _Jonathan_ has been the one who constantly wants to check up on you. Luke told me that he had to talk him out of driving the 10 hours to yours because you wouldn't answer your phone a couple of weeks ago, he thought something bad had happened.”

Tyler remembers looking back up at the Skype call to see Marcel casually looking at his fingernails and Brock smiling softly at him.

“Yeah I remember not being able to sleep a few days ago and logged on at the back of ass'o'clock to see Jonathan on, and when I asked him why he was awake he just said ' _waiting on Wildcat'”_ Evan confesses sheepishly, then all of a sudden everyone else was telling him random times when Jonathan was looking out for him, sacrificing his sleep for him and going out of his way to distract him from his all consuming thoughts.

He's left feeling hollow in the aftermath, scooped out and empty and useless,  
He promises then and there that he wouldn't do it again, that he would forever cherish the people who cared and loved him, he had taken their kindness for granted, ignored them when all they wanted to do was help him.  
He cleared his throat, _taking_ long, _deep breaths_ before looking up at each of his friends mentally prepared himself to find the best way to explain the text that he received from his old school friend, but apparently to no avail as _words flood out of his mouth_ as quickly as he could form them. Words and words were tearing themselves from his mouth, the tears that he was once desperately holding back were overflowing, and his sobbing overtook his body, shaking him violently. The boys sat in front of him, silently, and comforting not speaking a single word only listening to their dear friend as he broke down in front of them, their tall and strong friend who was usually so up-beat and held together.

“I don't know what to do, I've been trying to call Kelly, but her phone keeps going to voicemail.” Tyler gasped out, his throat raw from crying and dehydration from his earlier boozefest. “And Jonathan, fuck, I've fucked our friendship beyond repair.”

He hears Brock huff in amusement, “What?” he remembers asking, confused at why Brock was laughing, and feeling a little bit hurt.

“This is Jonathan we're talking about, he can't stay mad at anyone for a long time.” Brock says it with so much affection in his voice that it makes Tyler's throat close. “But you should apologize to him, he says a lot of shit most of the time but he's a good guy and he genuinely cares for his friends, did you know he texts me every morning to ask what I'm having for breakfast, of all things? Every morning at 8am on the dot” Tyler shook his head, and Brock goes on, “He messages Evan the hockey sports updates even if Evan has already seen them, and he'll spend hours online with him when Evan's insomnia returns and he can't sleep. He messages Nogla and Brian jokes that he thinks are funny, he sends Marcel ridiculous horoscopes and any funny videos he'll come across online that he thinks Marcel would like. he asks Craig about his trips with his family around the world, asks him what Britain's like and he'll send the most ridiculous pictures to Lui just to make him laugh.” Brock took a deep breath and Tyler looked at him with dazed eyes, not realized the length Jonathan went to make sure that his friends felt loved. “At Pax Luke told me that his father was an abusive drunk, just like Jonathan's and Luke's dad kicked him out of the house because he refused to give him the last of his savings for booze, Luke and Jonathan's sister had just broken up and he had no where to go, but Jonathan demanded that he stay with him and his mom and sister. Every morning he made pancakes for Luke because he wanted him to be happy.” Brock smiled and Marcel laughed, remembering the latest horoscope Jonathan had sent him, looking around for his phone he cleared his throat

**Taurus horoscope of the day:**

“ _You will sit next to a man who is in pyjamas and has messy hair, obviously_ _hasn't showered_ _in a week”_

 

“This is what he sent me yesterday, and guess fucking what? On the bus to the market it fucking happened.” Everyone burst out in giggles at Marcel's misfortune, “It was an old dude who looked like he had no idea where he was.”

Tyler wiped at his eyes, using the back of his hands to remove the dampness, groaning at the pounding in his head and the itchiness in his throat. But he smiled, grateful that his friends weren't sick of him, “Thank you and I'm. . . sorry”  
Evan looked at him, his old friend looked like hell. “Tyler,” he called trying to grab his attention, “Jonathan will be fine, we all leave for E3 in 4 days, so you can grovel in person then,” this earned a slight chuckle from the friendly giant and Evan smiled in response along with the others. “Right now, go get yourself some water and get some rest. Everything will be better in the morning, and if the text turns out to be true then we're here for you. And we're not just saying that, we care, yeah!!”

“Yeah,” he agreed running his hands through his short hair and letting out a deep sigh, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. And he sags in relief marvelling in the bonds he has with these people who have somehow over the years become like his family more than the ones he shares blood with. “Thank you” he mumbles over and over again _his eyes_ falling closed as _he_ lets the exhaustion of the night catch up to him.

“Go to bed bud, talk to us in the morning or we're coming to Indiana for you.” It sounds more desperate than an actual threat but he nods at Craig anyway, hoping to put his best friend at ease.

“Yeah, I will, I promise.”

He remembers saying goodbye to everyone before logging off and shutting down his computer for the night. Gulping down two glasses of water and crawling into bed with Kino curling up next to him. His phone blinks with unread messages from his friends and when he reads through them, he smiles, warmth shooting through him as his eyes take in the words. When he reaches the end, there's a message from Jonathan, it's short and still has and underline of anger to it and it made fresh tears well up in his eyes.

_I'll see you soon. . . don't die on me_ — _J_

 

When he closed his eyes that night, instead of dreaming of a beautiful girl with blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes he dreamt of loud notes of pure, _unadulterated_ _maniacal_ _laughter_. Voices that he could pinpoint in a crowded room, the feeling of sunlight warming his skin and grass tickling between his bare toes.

He felt content curl deep inside him and when he woke he found mouth calling out his friends names and laughter echoing in his head. Getting out of bed was harder than usual, the warm bedsheets tangled around his body and the pleasant dream still buzzing around in his head, but he had things to do and when he read the clock the red numbers of 8.13am glowed back at him. After showering and cleaning up the mess he made last night, he took Kino for his morning walk then sat down at his desk to keep his promise and Skype'd everyone at 10am, his and Jonathan's usual Skype time while munching on a slice of toast covered in strawberry jam, feeling ravished and hungry for more.

At 10 on the dot, everyone answered the call he sent out, looking sleepy with mused hair.

A sharp pain tugs at his heart when Jonathan doesn't answer the call, and he has to fight every instinct within him to not go grab his cell and bombard him with phone calls. Instead he promises himself that he'll try again a little later. Brian, Evan and Brock were the only ones looking bright eyed seeing as they did drills and exercised in the morning. Nogla and Lui were both slouched over their desks and he laughed at their sleepy expressions.

“Wakey wakey, sleepy heads.” he remembers cooing at them. “We leave in a couple of days so we should talk about the videos we're scheduling to post. Lui you're going to Machinima HQ aren't you?” he asks the half-sleeping man.

“Yeah” Lui mumbles, “With Nogla, tournament, Chilled Chaos, GhostRobo—

Evan shakes his head at him and turns his brown eyes back to the others, “I've scheduled the Gmod we recorded a few nights ago, I've got the Hide & Seek and the Death Run, I think Jonathan's done the same, but he's also got some Mortal Kombat with Luke. Everyone nods their heads and the rest of the day goes by with them setting up games to play and record, so their channels won't be empty while their away. Jonathan stays absent and it still sends and pang of sadness through his chest.

He'll fix this. . . he has too.

* * *

The day of E3 has finally arrived, when he landed in LA there was a feeling of excitement in the air that's so tangible that he could almost taste it. Everyone wandering around in YouTube t-shirts, badges and lanyards. He looks around the airport he's standing in and thought about everything that has brought him to this very moment, the text from his friend turned out to be true, but despite how hurt he had felt at the beginning, he still loved Kelly, but he wanted her to be happy. He still dreamt of her laughter and sometimes he thought he could still smell her perfume lingering though the air, but she was moving on and now so was he, or trying to at least by waiting on his friends who had arrived earlier to come pick him and Jonathan up.

Jonathan who is meant to land in a few moments was more than happy to know that Tyler was waiting for him. Brock was right, Jonathan never could hold a grudge. As his pale eyes scanned the crowd around him his eyes landed on a man walking slowly, _hesitantly_ , towards him. He's was shorter than Tyler, then again most people were, and the man's inky dark hair fell against his forehead in a stylish wave. His skin was pale but not sickly so and even from the distance between them Tyler could see the muscle moving underneath the man's band t-shirt. The shirt itself was interesting, it was a skull made up of words, lyrics he assumed, with red and blue lines at the bottom reading _'Power to the local dreamer'_ He was wearing ripped black jeans and a sky blue hoodie.

As the man got closer he stopped in front of Tyler peering up at him through long black lashes, lashes that framed eyes that were the colour of the summer sky, bright and shining with mirth.

“Jonathan?” he questioned, unsure if the man standing in front of him was actually his hyperactive, maniacal laughing friend, who stayed up with him to ungodly hours of the morning.

The man merely giggled and nodded his head his red lips stretched wide into a megawatt smile. _Dimples_ Tyler noted, and as Jonathan bites his lip he noticed a slight indent beneath Jonathan's lip, like something had pierced the skin, a lip piercing? Maybe.

“ _It's nice to finally meet_ the man behind the mask” he mumbles down at the still smiling man, the smile turns shy as Jonathan still peeks at him through his eyelashes. Then it dawns on him, “Wait – am I the first to see the real you?” he asks incredulously, “Beside Luke of courses,” he adds.

Jonathan lets out his signature laugh that draws the eyes of the people surrounding them, it's loud and bright and it sends warmth through him and before he knows what he's doing he's dragging Jonathan's smaller frame into a bear hug. Over the past few month Tyler had found himself to be more touchy feely with people he cared about, because nothing felt real and people were not real until they were solid and safely within his grasp. And this was the man who had wormed himself underneath his skin and made a little home for himself in Tyler's bones. The man who had helped him more than anyone else ever had.

“I didn't actually think someone like you would ever care for someone like _me._ ” he mumbled into Jonathan's dark hair, “I don't even think I've ever thanked you for everything you've done for me.”

“What?!” Jonathan replied confused and trying to pull away to look up into Tyler's face, but Tyler's grip on him was relentless and he held securely to his taller frame.

“I mean you're nothing like me, you're amazing and talented and I'm — _fuck. . . “_ he sighs in frustration and let's Jonathan go to run his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.

Great Tyler — why don't you dig yourself a bigger hole?

The silence that transpires is one that's awkward, strained, and smothering.

“Is that what you really think Tyler?”

Tyler blinks and looks down at the clear blue eyes that are staring back up at him.

“Yeah, I do. It's obvious to everyone, you're the amazing masked mystery who's nice to everyone and I'm just the douche who picks on the people he loves.”

Tyler sees a flush makes it way up Jonathan neck to his ears and cheeks at his words.

Jonathan turns when he hears a horn sound outside the open airport doors and his wide eyes catch the sight of Brock and Lui waving at them from a gorgeous blue truck. It's sky blue and it instantly makes a smile curve it's way across his face.

Tyler watches the smile, transfixed on the dimples that reappear on his pale cheeks.

He places his hands on Jonathan's shoulders, startling him to turn back to him, the older man was tiny and his large hands covered the broad expanse of his shoulders easily.

“Thank you, _you_ _literally_ _saved my life._ _If it wasn't for you helping me, staying up with me when I couldn't sleep and encouraging me to not reach for a fucking bottle, then I would probably have drowned myself in booze, like my granddaddy.” he takes a deep breath, breathing in Jonathan's scent, he couldn't quiet put a finger on it, but he smelled like... well, like_ _home;_ _even though Tyler had absolutely no idea how to explain how home smelled like._

Looking back into the eyes that now were blue like the ocean, tsunami tides clouding over his eyes until they're spilling over. Jonathan stood there, looking lost, helpless and ready to crumble.

_“I'm still a little broken,” he said with a small smile. “But that's ok—_

“I can fix you” Jonathan cut in, desperation colouring his tone. His hands clutching at the fabric of Tyler's black Henley shirt, his fingers clenching and unclenching, and a tight panicked sensation rising in his chest as Tyler does nothing more but stare down at him.

“Why would you want to?!” Tyler finally says.

“Because I care about you!!” Jonathan all but screams the words at him.

Jonathan let's go of him and turns around, face steaming red with embarrassment. Hurt was evident in his voice. Contused, aching and unbearable. He doesn't bother to listen to Tyler calling his name behind him, quickening up his pace along the busy airport.

“Wait, Jonathan. Hold on a sec – please.”

Jonathan ignores the plea and strides towards Brock's blue truck, Tyler following a few steps behind him.

“I can't loose you,” the words stumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. Jonathan falters in his steps towards Brock and Lui who are looking at them through the truck window with knowing looks on their faces. He turns to face Tyler, his eyes widening at the dampness filling Tyler's pale eyes.

He runs his hands through his hair again, ruffling it haphazardly and clearing his throat, “I don't know when or how, but you've become really special to me. And the thought of you not being in my life _hurts,_ and I know I'm a ass-wipe most of the time and I say things I don't mean but you laughing is what gets me though the day.” Tyler awkwardly coughed at the end feeling _a flush crawling up his neck_ and cheeks to rest at his ears as he fingered with the strap of his bag. Jonathan smiles at him then laughs at the bashful expression of Tyler's face; something he wasn't sure he would ever see, moving to stand in front of him he dropped his bag before bringing him into a warm hug.

“Don't ever take any of that rage fuelled shit I say seriously, please.” Tyler mumbled, dropping his head onto Jonathan's shoulder, “It's all nonsense. Because I care, I do. I care so fucking much.”

Jonathan grins from where his face is pressed against Tyler's chest. It's all very warm.

“It's okay, I know. As long as you remember that you're not alone.” the reply he received was merely Tyler tightening his hold on him, completely oblivious to Lui and Brock taking pictures of them cuddling it out and cooing at how cute they looked.

It took what felt like forever for Tyler to let go of him, but he eventually conceded and together after getting squeezed to death by the others they made it to E3, he was ready to take his life back, for far too long he had hid behind his fears and doubts not really believing people when they said that they loved him and that they would be there for him, for too long he had felt all alone, but now he knows, he was never truly alone and he laughs loudly and wheezy, for what feels like the first time in months when everyone gathers round him to hug him.

_Nogla in the background shouting, "Come on, everybody in, group hug, group hug.” And closing his eyes to Jonathan's delighted giggle as they all fall to the floor in one gigantic group pile._

Thee end. . .

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Then please review it & send me more prompts.


End file.
